


Doggy Style

by magicbubblepipe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom!Sam, Episode: s09e05 Dog Dean Afternoon, Humor, Leg Humping, M/M, Rimming, Sibling Incest, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 10:10:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1740848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicbubblepipe/pseuds/magicbubblepipe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes a little while longer than expected for that spell to wear off...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doggy Style

**Author's Note:**

> sorry not sorry

 

            “It still hasn’t worn off, has it?” Sam asks when he catches Dean scratching at his ear with his tongue lolling out to the side.

            Dean quickly rights himself and pulls his tongue back into his mouth with a wet sound, “What makes you say that?”

            Sam rolls his eyes and goes back to his grilled chicken salad. Dean goes to take another bite of his double cheeseburger when he realizes he’s already eaten it all. He lets out a little whimper of dismay and watches Sam hungrily. Sam feels him looking and meets Dean’s pleading eyes.

            “What?”

            Dean whines.

            “Really, dude?”

            Dean gets out of his chair and sits next to Sam on his knees. Somewhere in the back of his mind, human Dean wants him to cut it the fuck out but these dog instincts are powerful as hell. He whines pathetically and puts one paw- HAND on Sam’s knee.

            Sam blinks down at him; something about Dean looking at him like that, down on his knees pulls hard and warm at the pit of his stomach. He coughs around a piece of carrot and takes a swig from his water bottle. Dean fidgets where he sits, impatience radiating off his body in waves. With a put-upon sigh, Sam picks out a piece of chicken and offers it to Dean who, to his surprise, takes it right out of his fingers, lips gentle where they brush his skin.

            Sam flushes down to his toes and without thinking, picks out another piece to feed to his brother. Dean accepts it gratefully and Sam imagines he’d be wagging his tail if he had one. It’s when he feels his cock start to thicken against his thigh that he comes back to himself and shoves the last remnants of salad into his mouth, quickly rising to dump the plastic carton in the trash. His heart is beating fast and Dean is staring at him curiously with his head cocked to the side in a decidedly canine fashion. God, this is just too much.

            “I uh…I’m gonna go for a walk,” he says lamely, not grabbing his jacket before he nearly bolts out the door.

            Dean seems to somewhat shake himself out of his dog-stupor and rise to his feet. “Yeah, whatever, health nut,” he says and that’s all Sam can hear before he’s out the door and jogging down the sidewalk.

            When his head his slight erection has subsided and his mind is mostly clear of incestuous thoughts, Sam returns to the motel room, only to be greeted with destruction worthy of a tornado.

            “Dean, what the-…” is all he manages to say before he’s tackled to the ground by a frantically excited Dean.

            “Oh God, Sammy,” he pants, feeling all over his brother, sniffing him, “I thought you were leaving me forever and I panicked.” He licks a wet stripe from the base of Sam’s neck up to his ear and Sam jolts with shock, his hands grabbing Dean around the shoulders.

            Dean takes this as encouragement and pushes into Sam’s touch, rubbing his head into his chest, breathing deep and trailing little licking kisses anywhere he can reach. Sam jerks around, trying to dislodge him because he’s hard as a diamond right now and he really, really doesn’t need the flak he’d get for that later. And during all of this squirming around is when he realizes that Dean is hard too.

            He presses his thigh up against Dean’s crotch as subtly as possible and Dean lets out an animalistic groan, rocking down into that firm pressure. Sam’s cock gives an answering jerk and leaks a bead of pre-come into his boxers.

            “Dean,” he breathes. Dean what? Dean, stop? He can’t form the rest of the sentence when his beautiful brother is writhing on top of him, face flushed and he’s now arching his back, leaving the long, white column of his throat exposed. Sam wishes he was close enough to bite it.

            At the sound of his own name, Dean’s eyes flash back open, only a sliver of green surrounding the blown black of his pupil. He fists his hands in the front of Sam’s flannel and rocks down onto his thigh. He unleashes another inhuman noise and starts to pump his hips frantically, effectively humping his little brother’s leg. All Sam can do is hold on, his hands burning bruises into Dean’s hips where denim meets skin.

            Dean’s getting more and more frantic, his hips jerking erratically where his clothed dick is bearing down on Sam’s thigh. He can feel the heavy heat of it and it makes his own throb and strain against his jeans. He palms up and down the strong, flexing muscles of Dean’s thighs, his breath coming fast as Dean gets closer and closer to the edge.

            Sam isn’t sure why he says what he does but he does. He says, “Good boy,” and then Dean gasps, flinging his head back as he comes. The sight of it, the sweat trickling down Dean’s neck, the strain of his cock where it thickens and pulses in his jeans is suddenly enough to fling Sam over the edge as well and he chokes out a ragged, “fuck” as he arches and comes untouched in his pants like a fucking teenager.

            When his heart finishes rattling his ribs apart, he becomes aware of Dean leaning down to nuzzle at the wet stain at Sam’s crotch. He jumps up so fast he dumps his brother on the floor, hurriedly declaring ‘first shower’ before darting into the bathroom and slamming the door.

            He stands under the spray, attempting to wrap his mind around what’s just happened and whether or not Dean actually wanted it to happen. Were the dog instincts creating these feelings or were they just bringing it out? Sam knows how he feels about his brother. Ever since that brief fumbling kiss right before he left for Stanford and so many years before. Dean’s whining just outside the bathroom door.

 

…

 

            Sam’s just crawled into bed and closed his eyes when he feels a depression at the foot of his mattress. He sits up with a start, only to find Dean trying to make a place for himself. He sighs.

            “What are you doing, man?”

            “Don’t wanna sleep alone,” Dean admits, turning another tight circle on the bedspread.

            Sam’s head thumps back down on his pillow and he silently begs the ceiling to explain how his life has become this. “Come up here then,” he finally says after a long moment of silence and pulls back the covers.

            Dean nearly bounces up the bed and snuggles under, pressing right up against Sam’s back. Sam tries to slow his pounding heart. Half an hour ticks by and he can hear Dean start to snore. It’s a long time yet before Sam falls asleep.

 

…

 

            Sam wakes up to Dean’s dick hard against the curve of his ass and drool gathering on his neck. Sam is a weird mixture of aroused and disgusted and decides he needs to get out of this room before something untoward happens.

            Dean wakes up to the smell of hash-browns and bacon and he lets it lead him out of bed and to the small table by the window. Sam is unpacking two Styrofoam take out containers from the local diner and a tray of coffee. Dean accepts his gratefully and sets upon his meal like a ravenous animal. Sam watches, looking vaguely repulsed before starting in on his own breakfast.

            When they’re done eating and Sam is crunching the containers to shove them down in the trash, he says, “I’m gonna change and go for a jog.”

            “I want to come!” Dean announces, launching out of his chair and diving for his duffle where pulls out his pair of sweatpants.

            Sam blinks in non-comprehension. “You…what?”

            “I’m coming with you,” he says determinedly as he tugs on the pants over his boxers and starts rooting around for clean socks.

            Sam never thought he would see this day. He gets dressed in the bathroom because he’s feeling weird lately and Dean’s waiting for him by the motel room door when he gets out, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Sam pictures a studded collar wrapped around Dean’s throat and has to adjust himself a little.

            Dean lopes along happily beside him for such a long while that it takes Sam a moment to notice when he’s jogging alone. He turns around to see his brother- his badass, silver-tounged, hunter brother- taking a leak on a fire hydrant. Sam’s brain stutters around for a minute and he can picture cartoon puffs of smoke bubbling out of a dying engine.

            When he finally finds his voice, it comes out in a scandalized yelp of “ _Dean_!”

            His brother shakes off, zips up and sprints over to him with a dopey smile on his face like he did nothing wrong. Sam really can’t think of a proper admonishment to express his shock and dismay so he strings together a colorful string of obscenities and trudges on with Dean in tow.

            It isn’t very long at all before Dean pulls him up short again by following after a woman walking her poodle in the opposite direction. Sam runs after him, calling his name but Dean doesn’t seem to hear. When Sam is within earshot, he hears Dean say something like “Hey sweetheart, come here often?” And the woman whips around with a scowl on her face until she realizes that Dean is talking to her _dog_.  Then her expression warps into a mixture of confusion and horror that has no business forming on a human face.

            Sam catches Dean by the arm and yanks him away before he gets maced and explains hurriedly to the woman that Dean is mentally impaired, much to Dean’s adamant complaint. After that, Sam can’t get them back to the motel fast enough, his hand wrapped in a vice grip around Dean’s wrist so he can’t embarrass him any more than he has.

            He lets him go when he shuts the door and leans back against it, heaving out a tired breath and he thinks he feels a headache coming on. His eyes feel like they’re buzzing so he lets them slide closed, enjoying the slow burn behind his lids that suggest a nap would be a good idea. That is, until he feels warm breath and a nose nudging at his crotch.

            Sam jerks so hard he whacks his head on the door, his teeth clacking together in a flare of pain. Pain, however, is quickly eclipsed by the completely foreign feeling of his brother opening his mouth against the swell of his balls and letting his tongue soak the fabric. He chances a look down and lets out a moan at the incendiary sight that shouldn’t even be real.

            Dean catches his eyes, his own flashing green in a thin stripe around blown out black. His lashes fan out as he focuses back on his task, a groan vibrating up through Sam’s body so good he nearly bangs his head again. His cock is getting hard in record time and he hisses whenever it brushes Dean’s cheek.

            “Dean…what the hell?” he asks, still breathless.

            Dean’s fingers clench around the muscles of Sam’s thighs and he lets out a low, predatory sound, “Smell so fucking good, Sammy. Gotta taste you, get my mouth all over you.”

            Sam’s pretty sure he’s supposed to say something at this point like “stop” but all he can do is make a whining sound and push his hips up as his dick blurts out thick drops of pre-come. Dean must take that as assent because he positively growls, grabbing Sam by the hips and spinning him until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he falls. Sam’s legs are sprawled out and Dean wastes no time crawling up between them.

            He drops down and shoves his face back into Sam’s crotch, drooling around the heated ridge of his dick, hands sliding up under his legs to push them further apart. Sam’s panting and squirming on his back, mindlessly eager to comply with the position Dean’s forcing him into. He’s wanted this since God knows when and his mind can’t bring his body to make it stop.

            Dean makes an annoyed sound and starts yanking at the elastic waistband of Sam’s running pants. “Off. Gettem off,” he says, voice low and gravel rough.

Sam hurries to oblige, kicking his shoes onto the floor along the way. He pauses with his thumbs under the waist of his boxers and shoots a questioning look at Dean. Dean takes it upon himself to grab the shorts by the hem and yank them down so fast Sam’s cock slaps back against his stomach. Dean tosses them away, balled up with Sam’s socks so his brother is naked from the waist down, his thin gray v-neck rucked up around his middle.

Sam’s blushing right down to his belly-button but he’s so fucking turned on he can barely think. All he can say is “Dean” and like he flicked a switch, Dean lets out a sound that’s positively carnal and dives back down between his legs. Sam lets his head fall back with a shuddery breath as Dean noses along his length, hot tongue lapping at the puddle of swiftly collecting pre-come before sucking the head into his mouth.

Sam’s whole body lurches; his fingers twist in the mussed sheets and his consciousness zeroes down to the wet, active heat of Dean’s mouth and his tongue as it molds itself around him. He pulses more slickness into his brother’s mouth and he sucks at it hungrily, taking Sam in deep and bobbing his head until Sam feels like he’s about to explode. He’s tensing up, blood rushing and he squeezes his eyes shut tight, groaning to Dean that he’s about to come.

That’s when Dean pulls off. Sam just barely holds back from sobbing. Dean shoves his face into the crease of skin between thigh and cock and just breathes in before licking a hot stripe into the sensitive skin. Sam writhes on the bed, teeth tearing at his bottom lip as he tries not to beg. He licks a broad stripe across Sam’s balls which draw up further and tense as Sam shakes, knees falling open as far as they can go and he doesn’t care at all how he must look.

And then, sudden as anything, Dean ducks down below Sam’s balls and licks right across his hole. Sam’s thighs clash together so suddenly that he thoroughly socks Dean’s ears and he gasps at the tingling rush of sensation. Dean just shoves Sam’s legs back apart, suddenly more ravenous than before, like he’s just found what he’s been searching for.

“God, Sammy,” he growls, tongue swiping out again and again over the fluttering muscle, pausing briefly to bite at the plush curves of Sam’s ass before diving back in, “Taste even better than you smell. Gonna get my tongue in there, work you all open and wet for me.”

Sam whines and twists in Dean’s grip, teeth clenched tight to trap the words that want to escape. Dean doesn’t care to hear it anyway because he’s swirling the tip of his tongue around his entrance in teasing touches that make his muscles quake before closing his whole mouth around and sucking, kissing him open enough to wriggle his tongue inside. It’s the hottest, dirtiest thing Sam’s ever felt and it’s mind-blowingly _perfect_.

Once Dean pushes his way past Sam’s resistance, his body just pulls him in. Sam moans long and loud and Dean hums in satisfaction as he starts thrusting his tongue in and out, curling and flicking as deep as he can reach. There’s a veritable lake on Sam’s stomach now, his dick violently red, almost purple with the need to come but Dean doesn’t look like he’ll be done any time soon.

            “Dean, come- Ah!” he flinches when Dean pushes a finger in alongside his tongue and then lets out a low, desperate sound when he starts to thrust them both in time.

            It’s not like he hasn’t jerked off with a few guilty fingers up his ass before but this is so different, so much _better_. He pushes down into the sweet, addictive burn of it, urging Dean for more with swivels of his hips and a hand fisting in his short, sweaty hair. Dean hums with satisfaction and pushes in another digit, removing his tongue to suck around the rim.

            He stops suddenly, withdrawing his fingers and giving a firm slap to the outside of Sam’s thigh. Sam groans and tries to push his ass back onto Dean’s face, wanting to fill the deep, empty ache inside him.

            “On your knees,” Dean commands and Sam does as he’s told, face down, ass up. “So fucking eager,” Dean growls, prying apart Sam’s cheeks and putting his mouth back to work.

            Dean’s now in the perfect position for really eating him out and he intends to take full advantage of it. He gathers spit and pushes it in with his tongue, fucking in deep before sucking it right back out and Sam’s moaning like he can’t help it. Sam’s cock is hanging heavy between his thighs, a clear string of pre-come connecting him to the bed and he falls onto one shoulder to get a hand on himself. At the barest brush of his fingers Dean bites into the meat of his ass cheek _hard._

            Sam yelps and puts his hand back on the bed. “Good boy,” Dean says before he gets back to tonguing his ass. Sam somehow has the presence of mind to say, “You’re the dog, not me,” but it ends on a howl as Dean slides a well-aimed finger against his prostate.

            “Want me to fuck you?” Dean asks, one palm sliding up Sam’s sweat slicked back.

            “YES, fuck, please! Just get on with it!” Sam gripes, back arching in obvious invitation.

            “Well, because you asked so nice…” Dean says, trying for nonchalant but coming out breathless.

            Dean pushes his pants down under his balls fast and hisses as his cock springs free, throbbing and wet at the tip. His hands are immediately on Sam’s hips and his animal instincts are yelling at him to just shove in but Sam’s saying something like “hell no” and twisting out of his grip. Dean makes an annoyed sound and slides his erection against the slick crease of Sam’s ass. Sam kicks him straight in the stomach.

            Dean falls back on his hands, momentarily shocked out of his stupor, “What the fuck, Sam?”

            “No way you’re going in without lube, jackass!” Sam says, glaring at Dean over his shoulder.

            Dean blinks for a second before comprehension sinks in and he feels like an asshole. “Right,” he amends, leaning over the bed to rummage through his duffle. He comes up with a half empty tube of KY to which Sam makes a sound of satisfaction and settles back down. He drizzles some quickly on himself, using light strokes so he doesn’t come too soon and ruin the whole thing.

            But as soon as he has the head of his cock pressed up against his brother’s opening, all sense of humanity rushes out of him like a ruptured balloon. It has him grabbing Sam’s hips and slamming in on one smooth thrust that makes both men yell. He rolls his hips in deep, feeling Sam’s muscles clutch and pull around him and he lets his breath out on a harsh growl.  

            “Fffuck, Sammy…” his voice is ragged and low, its feral sound shivering up Sam’s spine, “feel so fuckin’ good.”

            Sam moans in response and rocks back onto his brother’s cock so it scrapes just right over his prostate. “Yeah, Dean,” he breathes and Dean’s hands skate up his slim waist before he plants a firm palm between his shoulder blades, pressing him flat to the bed. Sam’s pulse jumps at the show of dominance, a kink he never even knew he had, but when it comes to Dean, Sam wants it all.

            “Like that?” Dean asks, as if reading his mind. He pulls back out slow, tugging Sam’s nerves and setting them on fire, “Want me to own you, little brother?” Sam bites his lip so as not to respond but Dean pounds back inside, shocking a yelp out of him and he twists his fingers in the sheets.

            “Yes,” he grates out and he barely recognizes the desperate tone of his own voice.

            “What’s that?” Dean starts a slow, deep pace that Sam’s trying to speed up with his own thrusts but the hand on his back only increases its strength and pins him down. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

            Sam’s face burns, pride and lust warring inside him and he’s almost at his breaking point. “I said _yes_.”

            He can hear the chuckle in Dean’s voice when he says, “Wanna hear you ask for it. Want you to beg me to let you come.”

            “Oh, fuck you.” Sam barks back though his dick is very much on board with the whole begging idea.

“Oh contraire, brother mine,” Dean says with a circle of his hips right over the good spot that makes Sam’s eyes roll back. “C’mon and ask me nice.”

Sam’s blood is burning in his veins and his lips quirk up in a cruel smirk when he says, “Fuck me now before I find someone else to take your place.” He doesn’t mean it one iota of course but it has just the desired effect on his brother.

Dean shoves back in so hard it knocks the breath out of Sam. He digs the nails of one hand into Sam’s shoulder and twists the other in his hair to wrench his neck back. He’s pounding his cock in good and fast now, snarling under his breath curses and promises.

“Nobody’s gonna fucking touch you. You’re mine, always been mine. Gonna mark you up so everyone knows you’re _my_ bitch.”

Under different circumstances, Sam might have laughed but now he’s just unleashing loud, wordless cries as Dean pulls him back into every thrust, pain and pleasure blurring into one intoxicating haze. “Yours,” he manages to say, his voice thin and strained with his head pulled back so far.

Dean groans at that and wraps his arm around Sam’s chest, suddenly pulling him upright against him. Sam cries out at the sudden change in angle and braces his hands against the headboard while Dean continues to fuck him. At least in this position he can give as good as he gets, lifting and dropping back onto Dean’s dick.

The thrusts inside him are getting erratic, Dean’s hips stuttering and he can tell he’s close. He wraps his free hand around Sam’s bobbing cock, just holding, and growls in his ear, “Come,” sinking his teeth into Sam’s shoulder.

Sam’s orgasm comes sudden and it comes hard. He throws his head back onto Dean’s shoulder and _screams,_ his cock jerking and shooting load after load of come over himself and the headboard. He can feel every movement of Dean inside him magnified times 10, dragging over that sweet spot again and again and he feels like he can’t come down.

Dean freezes and jerks a moment later, cock thickening inside Sam’s still clenching channel and he comes like a freight train, teeth sinking deeper in Sam’s skin until he can feel the slick heat of blood. They rock frantically together until the shudders subside and Sam slumps forward, his body still shaking, and Dean follows right along, spread hot and sticky across his brother’s back.

Dean pulls out and rolls over a minute later, lying flat on his back and blinking at the ceiling. Sam turns his head lazily and admires his sex-flush and the wild wreck of his hair.

“It’s gone,” Dean says.

“What?”

“The- the dog thing, it just- poof. Gone.” He turns to face Sam, flinching a little like he’s expecting Sam to freak out or hit him or something. “Sam I- I’m so sorry. I couldn’t control myself, I shouldn’t- fuck. Oh man.” He turns back over, putting his hands over his face and digging his palms into his eye sockets.

“What the- Hey!” Sam grabs at Dean’s hands, pulling them away from his face. He props up on his elbows to look his brother in his guilt ridden eyes. “Don’t act like you raped me or something. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m huge. I could have thrown you off in a heartbeat if I didn’t want it.”

Dean’s expression turns from skepticism to a taunting smirk, “Yeah right, sasquatch, I’d like to see you try.”

Sam lets out a surprised laugh, “Oh come on, Dean, you really don’t wanna go there.”

“Oh, I think I do,” Dean replies. He sits up fast and pushes Sam’s shoulders back down onto the bed.

Sam smiles slow and dirty, arousal simmering low in the pit of his stomach. “Let’s go, old man, I’m almost up for round two.”


End file.
